


Unbind Me.

by Bulletprccf



Series: Keep It Sharp, Gentlemen. [1]
Category: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Gen, M/M, a full explanation of the mob setting is inside, rating is for vincent being portrayed as the killer he is., so ro and i had this au on tumblr and we still have it offline, this ship unexpectedly dragged me along with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 10:53:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14447769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bulletprccf/pseuds/Bulletprccf
Summary: There is but one command from lips of glaring white.





	Unbind Me.

**Author's Note:**

> This section is to help anyone new to the mob era and/or new to the alternate universe. If you would like to bypass this, please skip down to the first page break.
> 
> Basic & Background Information:
> 
> The mafia in this universe is based on the 1920s to 1930s American mob, though the timeline is set in modernity. During the Prohibition era, the American mob was involved with the smuggling of liquor, and afterward expanded to illegal gambling rings, loan sharking, fencing, and drug trafficking.
> 
> There is a hierarchy within each family. Family members are known as made men, and are therefore untouchable in the criminal underworld – any act against them would be met with retaliation, perhaps inciting a war.  
> Boss. called the “don” or “godfather.” head of a family. receives a cut of all operations. usually a hereditary position, though can be chosen by vote in some cases.  
> Underboss. appointed by the boss. second-in-command. receives part of the boss’s cut on operations. logical successor should the boss fall to unfortunate circumstances.  
> Consigliere. adviser to the boss. seen as the family’s third-in-command. usually an older member of the family with wisdom and experience. used to settle disputes with other families.  
> Caporegime. in charge of a group of soldatos ( 10 - 20 ). all capos are appointed by the boss. in charge of heist operations.  
> Soldato. foot soldiers of the family. last rank to be considered made men. can use the family’s connections. usually the ones to do all the dirty work.  
> Associate. those who are connected to & work for the family, though are not family members themselves. are not made men. can sometimes wield the respect & power of a true mafioso, but this is seldom so.  
>    
> During this time period, the North American Italian mobs had a set list of rules:  
> Omertà. “code of silence.” never talk to the authorities.  
> Ethnicity. only men of italian descent can be made into made men.  
> Family secrets. do not talk about family business to non-members.  
> Blood for blood. if a member is killed by another, retribution cannot be given unless with permission from the boss.  
> No fighting among members. from fist fights to knife fights.  
> Tribute. every month members must pay a cut to the boss.  
> Adultery. members cannot take another person’s wife.  
> No facial hair. must be clean shaven.  
> Homosexuality. homosexuality is punishable by death. bosses are not exempt.
> 
> Valentine’s Dossier
> 
> Origin: Sicily. associate of the Hojo family. refused to become a made man.  
> Death: shot. there is a rumor he fraternized with the boss’s wife. these claims are unfounded.  
> Post-Mortem: the boss had him “modified.” he is now a walking corpse, albeit with enhanced speed, strength, and senses. the Hojo family’s boss, underboss, consigliere, and capos have all died to belladonna poisoning. Valentine has fled the country and now works for the Lucis Caelum family, a mob with a hefty price on their heads ( a lot of someones don’t agree with their power ). it is unknown how or why Regis Lucis Caelum accepted him as an associate, though he is now a capo with the unusual circumstance that he has no soldatos. he is the sole protector of the family’s wayward underboss, Noctis Lucis Caelum.  
> > his left arm was blown off in an experiment. he has since had this arm compressed into a bluish diamond, which is set into a gold ring he wears on his right middle finger.  
> > his long black hair is often seen tied up in a ponytail that sweeps down to create a shadowy mixture with his black suits.  
> > he is of full italian descent. his true surname is valentino, but he has since changed it upon fleeing sicily.  
> > he is fluent in italian ( his native tongue ), spanish, and english.  
> > he lives in the lucis caelum manor, in a room adjoined to his charge’s.  
> > CURRENT BODY COUNT: 59.

* * *

 

_tick, tick, tick, tick_. 

 

 

          The clock is ticking.  Vincent had just stepped out of the bathroom from a steaming shower to discovered three missed calls from   _ **R e g i s**_  .  He was just in the process of pressing “call” when the phone rang again.  He had answered immediately.

                              “Boss.”

          “Valentine,” had come the authoritative voice.  “Where have you been?”

                              **“** The shower **,**  sir **.**   Did **…** I   
                              m i s u n d e r s t a n  d   
                              what  time  I  was  free  
                              to leave _ **?**_ **”**  

          A sigh had covered the line in a breeze of static.  “No, but I need you back immediately.”

          The lack of an explanation as to  _why_  had led the gaunt to believe that these were matters inappropriate for a phone call.  No, emergencies granted a need far darker than that.

                               **“** Allow me fifteen minutes   
                               and  I  shall  be  at  your   
                               doorstep **.”**  

          “Granted.  Godspeed.”  There had been an abrupt  _click_.

 

_tick, tick, tick, tick_.

 

          Precisely twelve minutes and forty-seven seconds later, Vincent Valentine had shown up in casual wear  **(**   _though black, of course._   **)** , and he had been briefed on this emergency:  the secondary guard, a young blond man who is hardly more than a boy, had failed to keep the Lucis Caelum heir safe.  The replacement was now at the family doctor, unconscious with a bullet in his lung–but breathing  **(**   _translation: they had not shot to kill_   **)**. There was a ransom demand for the young man, but Regis’s command had been but one: go and retrieve Noctis. 

          There had been a brief debate after he had left the room; two of Regis’s own bodyguards were concerned over sending someone who had only been with the family for not a year yet.  Vincent had ignored this debate and had gone to collect details. 

           That had been one hour and fourteen minutes ago.

 

_tick, tick, tick, tick_. 

 

          The thought crossed Valentine’s mind that surely there must be a visible plan to pay the ransom.  It would never do to have the Izunia family suspicious, although…from what he’s heard, the man up top seems more than what he originally appears.

           But that is not important now.  What is important is infiltrating this manor.  It is aged, but not entirely antique.  Many newer features are obvious, even if the architecture is similar.  The young heir would likely be in one of the newer areas–those were more easily guarded than secret passageways in older manors.

          Flipping about the walls, wary of cameras and snipers, he slinks through the undergrowth while concealed in vine-riddled shadows.  Soft footfalls circle the house one and a half times, coming to rest near an older brick wall where there are guards on duty.  He observes them as they circle the perimeter  **(**   _a three and one half minute circle, and then move clockwise around the house twenty degrees.  every man is within the sight of two others.  it’s tight._   **)**.

          Not tight enough.

##  _tick, tick, tick, tick_. 

          A silencer is bountiful accessory, provided the wielder is one man on a mission and will not be stopped.  An aimed shot to a tree branch sixty degrees to the north causes a disturbance–a heavy rustle in the trees.  While small enough to not warrant a great concern nor any radio communication, one guard still takes point forward to investigate it, while the two on his sides come together, within sight of each other, but not of the other fifteen on patrol on the ground level, and there are no guards on the upper veranda.  There might be cameras, but if Valentine knows his instincts, the cameras will be of no help at all.

           _Click, click.  Click._  Two bodies drop, shot in the head – the only clean shot on them.  Before the point guard can turn halfway toward them, he too has the light leave his eyes.  A black, shapeless mass rips across the lawn – three and one half minutes may be far too long a time to kill someone, but three someones and scaling a jutted brick wall might be time-consuming.  Add that in to finding the dark heir, and their time is just about up.

##  **_tick, tick, tick, ti–CLICK_.**

          Another man lies dead at Vincent’s feet, the clock that he had been intently watching shattered.  **(**   _your curfew is passed.  return to your bed._   **)**   A pool of blood grows rapidly from the slit in his throat, and the glinting golden claws that adorn the gunman’s left arm drip with crimson.  Stepping over the body as if it were a tree root, he approaches the youth draped across the bed.  His hands and feet are bound, and his mouth is gagged.  To an untrained eye, he would still appear to be unconscious.

                               **“** You’ll have to pretend just   
                                a little longer **,**    my prince **.**     
                                There is no time **.”**

          A loud noise of protest comes from the  **(**   _not_   **)**  sleeping victim as he is hopelessly slung over a shoulder.  Vincent bounds over the cadaver blocking the doorway, and he hears them: footsteps fast approaching from the right.

          The chase is on.

* * *

 

          Approximately fifteen minutes later, they are deep within the forest.  The damp air chills the greenery around them, and it does little to help either of them.  The bodyguard has run through two little streams to destroy their scented path, though he has had little time to do much else.  This little copse of trees is relatively difficult to enter, and so it will do for now. 

                               **“** Noct **…”**

          That glower has him falter.  Those eyes hold one command.

           _Unbind me._  

          Fetching a pocket knife from a pouch on his holster, he sets to work – with the gag first.  That smart mouth is simply itching to let him have it.

          “Was all of that really necessar – ”

          All it takes is the briefest of touches between lips to hush the younger, and then he allows it to fall–this facade of stoicism that keeps his heart locked away.  Noctis has heard his true emotions before, of course, but they are always calm, collected.   _Allowed._  This is not allowed at all, this wanton display of affection – for he is a servant and this his god.

          Moments of silence pass, icy blue gaze locked with ruby, before the fragility is broken by another command:

          “…Unbind me.”

* * *

 


End file.
